Tinkling Memories of Dance
by lostloveloki
Summary: Natalia looked up as the soft tinkling melody froze, but a low voice hummed the rest from the doorway. He shut the door behind him, and set down the tools with which he had silently broken into her room, as she lost herself in the song and her dance. He kept humming the melody, as he crossed the distance between them and took her hand in his. Her body twined to fit against his, res


Natasha went over to her closet, smiling a little to herself.

"Jarvis?" she asked, opening up the closet, and rummaging through the third shelf on the left.

"Yes, Agent Romanoff, how may I be of service?" the AI's voice echoed through the sparsely filled room. Natasha had learnt not a accumulate toys and trinkets in her years of service, as any sentiment was a weapon to be used against her, and those she cared for and protected. There were no photos, no stuffed toys, and no books other than a few P.G. Wodehouse novels, some Neil Gaiman, and some Terry Pratchett. There were no flowery linens, or expressive art collections. Only the drawing of a red fox that Steve had insisted on gifting her, because her room made him sad, whenever he passed it in the corridor.

"Please cut surveillance from my room, for the next one hour."

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Stark has said that I am never to cut surveill-"

"Jarvis, I am asking you politely, not because I don't know how to reach your core and unplug you, but because I trust you. Please do as I say. I don't mind your presence, but cut all feeds to this room, and do not discuss what I'm about to do, with anyone."

"Of course," the disembodied voice acquiesced.

Her lips quirked up as her fingers brushed a cold plastic surface. Gently, she picked up the rectangular box, and pulled it out from beneath layers of clothes. She knew it wasn't a sophisticated hiding place, but it didn't need sophistication. She could easily replace it, she would tell herself. In her hands lay a beautiful red jewelry box, with golden ornamentation. It had four drawers, ordered in two columns and two rows, and the lid was half solid, with a marble-like colour gradient, while the other half was a clear window. She opened the lid and smiled at the golden magnetic figures that held each other in an embrace, frozen forever in the fluid motion of their timeless dance. She picked up the piece and felt the clock wind back…

"You are a beautiful dancer Natalia," the Asset spoke, leaning on the doorframe of the ballet studio within their KGB quarters. The night was still raging over the cold lands of Moscow, as the only light that filtered into the room was the sheen of the Moon's beams traversing through the small window, and reflecting off the mirrors along all walls.

Natasha bristled; rising from the graceful floor position she had finished her dance on.

"What brings you to the dancing quarters, Soldier?" She dusted herself off, carefully taking her point-shoes off.

"I was doing rounds," he remarked, smiling just a little, a sight that was truly once in a blue-moon.

"I see."

Natasha placed the two dancing figures on their petite dancing rink, and turned a little knob under the box, the soft whirring of internal machinery promising a splendid performance.

A soft tinkling melody played its charming little tune, as she set the box down and traversed to the center of the room. Closing her eyes, she stretched her body into the starting position.

"Dance with me," he uttered a couple of nights after their first mid-night encounter in the studio.

Mystified, she raised her brow. "You dance Ballet?" She appraised his physique. Sure, Vanya was a strong fighter, with the survival instincts of a wild-cat, but he… he didn't seem graceful enough.

He shook his head. "I know other dances."

Her lips turned down, eyeing his metal arm. "Dances are far more fragile creations than training and fights-"

"No need to lecture me, Natalia. I am _your_ fighting instructor, and just because I go hard on you during training, it does not mean that I do not know how to be a gentle dancer." She still looked hesitant, pursing her lips in contemplation, but stepped towards him. He crossed the distance and almost tenderly placed one hand around her waist, and caught the other with his own. "Place your other hand on my shoulder," he answered her mystified look, suppressing a smile. Clearing her throat to mask her embarrassment at being unfamiliar with this dance, she did as instructed. She straightened up, and stared straight into his eyes, trying to create the illusion of self-assured control.

"I will teach you to waltz, young Natalia. It will be very useful in missions when you infiltrate the upper classes, and partake in society events."

"The upper- Why not train us as a group?" she asked softly, feeling strangely comfortable in his grip.

After a lengthy silence, he answered in a gently voice,"Because the others will never require this skillset."

She knew better than to question him, though his statement would haunt her for years to come.

He hummed a soft melody, and led the way.

Natalia looked up as the soft tinkling melody froze, but a low voice hummed the rest from the doorway. He shut the door behind him, and set down the tools with which he had silently broken into her room, as she lost herself in the song and her dance. He kept humming the melody, as he crossed the distance between them and took her hand in his. Her body twined to fit against his, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her lips thrummed with a gentle soprano lull, as she hummed with him, and their feet followed their familiar steps of old. They spun gracefully around her room, pressed close together, though it was wrong to. They molded themselves together, never breaking eye-contact. He spun her slowly, dipped her, held her close, in an amalgamation of half-a-dozen old dance styles which weaved perfectly, in and out of each other, like a loom weaving the fates of mankind, according to Thor.

When their lips finally stopped thrumming with the comfortable hum, they smiled at each other, never parting their lips. They leant their heads against each other, and remained wrapped in the comforting arms of their other half.


End file.
